Hello all! I've struggled with getting this one to come together, but there are some feelings from both episode 3x19 and 3x20 that I've been wanting to explore before too much time passed. In some ways, this could be a sort of flip side to my previous one-shot "Never Better", and I wanted to get it posted before the finale tonight. Knowing how these things go, it will probably be made either AU or irrelevant by what occurs in the two hour season ender. I'm actually trusting that the finale will make this less fitting; as I would hate to still be feeling so upset and discouraged for our Captain when all is said and done. I do hope you enjoy, and let me know what you think of it. As always, I still don't own them. (And sadly, I never will.)

"Never Enough"

By: TutorGirlml

Her words physically wound him, the aching void he already feels opening further as the possibility of her loss stalls his breath and makes any sort of comeback impossible. It doesn't even seem to matter that he offers her no response, as Emma is already glancing back at him over her shoulder, moving to rejoin her family and greet her safely regained younger sibling. Even as she smiles at him, her eyes alight with relief and a hint of playfulness, Swan seems unconcerned with the way that her continued intention to move back to that horrifying modern metal jungle "New York" and away from what they could be together is ripping him in two. Perhaps she thinks she is letting him off easily, not blaming him for her lost powers, letting him know she will be okay without him, but she only makes it worse. How could he ever want her to go where it doesn't matter who she is and how incredible she can be? How can her ever be at ease knowing she intends to be alone, somewhere he can never belong? That she would rather cling to a simpler illusion, what had been nothing more than a pretty lie, than to admit the truth he has been holding out to her, forces him to come to a decision.

Not only is she denying herself – she is denying her family, her friends, her kingdom… and him. Emma is running scared. Even more maddening is that it would seem he has no argument left to challenge her with, since his kiss did in fact steal her magic as Zelena had wanted and would seem to say that they are not True Loves. Killian is honest enough with himself to admit that – on his side at least – there had been some small, desperate hope for that potential. He is still not convinced they weren't meant for each other. Emma's own walls and fear could have kept her from enacting their kiss's full power. However, he is without any way to prove this to her, and he is starting to wonder why he is so hopelessly devoted to someone who refuses even to trust him.

He does not know why he expected anything more. Killian Jones is only a nothing but a pirate after all. What does he have to offer a princess and savior – even one that is as damaged and lost as he himself is? Moreover, anyone who has ever truly cared for him has met a grisly end. He has been a lonely, vengeful man for so long because he was already cursed, long before the Wicked Witch made his own body into a weapon. Emma is wise to keep her distance. He should withdraw and let her go, before she loses anyone else or pays the price herself. That he could have ever thought she would stay with him seems pathetically laughable now. Regardless of the fact that he has been there for her, that he wants to be the one who chooses her, who does not leave, but remains at her side…always. After all he has already sacrificed and laid at her feet, Killian wants to be angry, has a right to resent her doubt in him, but all he can feel is resignation. He has never been good enough to earn his happy ending, and it finally seems clear to him that he will never be enough for Swan either.

Killian refocuses his gaze, lets his eyes drink in her golden beauty while he still can. Emma's green eyes sparkle as she looks from Henry to her parents to her newborn baby brother, and a bubble of laughter escapes her perfect lips at something David says which Killian is not close enough to hear. He is warmed to his very core to see her happy and her beguiling gaze full of something other than pain; yet, the loneliness within his own soul is plucked once again by the scene before him. Though he has searched and journeyed and fought to rescue her, to bring her back, to help and support her, Emma spares not one more glance for him. He is still not a real part of the group in the cozily crowded delivery room. Emma has made it painfully clear that she is leaving, and he is still trapped on the outside looking in.

Killian's mind is made up as he stands in the doorway, as much as he hates the conclusion he has reached. If their second kiss had turned out differently, if Emma had allowed herself to truly feel, he would know if there is anything to keep him holding on. But, as long as Emma refuses to see, as long as she continues to literally block the power of True Love, there is no recourse for him. All he has done to prove himself still has not gained him a secure place in this family he has come to care for so desperately. He has made his offerings only for her to throw them away.

It is high time he gives her the space she desires. Killian's shoulders slump as he turns from the endearing sight before him; the longing does not leave merely because he admits defeat. As he retreats down the strangely white and antiseptic-smelling hall to the exit, he cannot help berating his foolish heart with each heavy, reluctant step. He had believed Emma's words so long ago; let himself wish to be a part of something. The dream dissolving now might finally be the undoing of the infamous Captain Hook…

~~~~~000~~~~~~~~~~000000~~~~~~~~~~000~~~~

Killian would set sail immediately and leave Storybrooke behind him, if he still had the Roger. Though he feels the invisible chain binding him to Emma will never release him, he can give himself distance to breathe, to recover, to come to terms with the reality that he will not, in fact, win her heart as he had sworn. It hardly matters since his ship is long gone, and he has no means to flee this cursed town. Instead, he stands at the end of the docks, looking out over the red-streaked sunset horizon and the choppy waves, trying to regain some sense of calm. He cannot decide if he is relieved, thrilled, or angered when he hears the clatter of heels on wooden planks and knows that Swan has come to him.

Bowing his head, Killian steels himself against the weakness he feels where she is concerned, briefly rubbing his forehead where a headache is surely building, before he turns to face her. He pastes the dashing rapscallion's smile on his face. It is a well-honed act he has had centuries to craft, and he plays it to perfection now.

"What's this, Love? Come to watch the sunset with a humble pirate?" he mocks cheekily, unable to help the bite that slips into the words as well. He arches the brow he knows will make her roll her eyes and flirt back before pushing him away again. It is not what he wants, but it is the game they play. The game is run on her rules; he is merely a pawn in love with her.

His delivery is the same as ever: warm, engaging, and allowing the lilt of his accent to curl around the words. Yet, he can feel it ringing empty and fears Emma will know. When she lets herself, she is now almost as adept at reading him and seeing through his familiar disguise as he is with her. For one thing, he has not yet stepped closer to her, crowding her personal space and flustering her. He must stop tempting himself with what he can never have.

She does not appear to be fooled, though he tosses in a knowing wink at her and forces himself to smirk as if nothing is wrong. She narrows those incisive eyes, and he can see her trying to deduce what isn't adding up. "What are you doing out here, Hook?" she finally asks.

"Is there somewhere else I should be, Swan?" he lobs back, practically licking his lips.

Blinking, she seems at a loss for a moment – obviously taken aback. She is no fool, and she can clearly sense the anger and frustration ready to snap in his chilly voice. He has not directed that tone at her since leaving her in Rumplestiltskin's cell long ago, and she suddenly misses the inherent warmth she has drawn from his voice ever since they joined forces, without really taking the time to appreciate it.

Emma takes a steadying breath before continuing, knowing to tread lightly. "I…I suppose I figured you'd be waiting outside the birthing room, to see what was happening next." She pauses, eyes flicking up to meet his, then lowering to study the boards of the dock again. Trying for playful banter once more, she asks, "Are you hiding out, Pirate?"

"Perhaps," he answers shortly, voice low and taut.

"Wouldn't you have better luck with that on your ship rather than standing out in the open?" she challenges, head cocked to one side curiously.

"Aye, most assuredly I would," he allows, voice gravelly and trailing off without elaborating.

"So…" she pauses, trying to lead him into some sort of explanation, but it becomes clear he is agitated and uncomfortable; not meeting hers eyes, not offering any sort of conversation, and not coming any closer to her. Her brow furrows again, and Killian winces, seeing that she is finally putting together the puzzle that up to now she has been too distracted and oblivious to solve. He had not wanted her to – did not want her gratitude or trust out of a sense of indebtedness or pity – but he can clearly see that it is too late.

Quickly, he tries to change the subject, to get her moving, and stands abruptly, finally taking a step in her direction. "Well, you've found me, Swan. So where are we headed?"

But it is to no avail; the look in her eyes that she turns on him now is one he has never seen her give to anyone before. It is a mix of exasperation, disbelief…and awe. "No, Killian…wait. Where is your ship?"

He sighs, looking down, then away, out over the water again, wistful and not wanting to tell her this. It makes him entirely too vulnerable.

"Did – did you give up the Jolly Roger?" she fumbles, her voice shaking, clearly unable to add the implied, 'Did you sacrifice it to find a way to me?' He understands her reluctance to hear the truth. It is why he never wanted her to find out; she will be even more afraid of just how much he cares for her, how in love with her he honestly is. She cannot ignore what he has done, and she cannot simply tell him to go away and be rid of the pressure. He has given up his very home – the one most important thing he has ever possessed – for her.

A muscle in his cheek tightens as he clenches his jaw before forcing out his answer. "Aye, Lass, I did."

"Killian, how could you?! That ship was your home. You love the Jolly; it's been with you for ages! Why would you do it?" She flings her arms out wildly, as if to punctuate her words. She is pacing before him now; suddenly finding herself the one who feels discomforted and inadequate. Her expressive green eyes are beseeching him, both begging for and fearing the truth.

He releases the breath he has been holding, inching close to her once more until he is standing right in front of her. His voice is soft, open and sincere, as he finally finds her gaze and holds it, knowing that now is the moment of truth and he must finally lay it all out for one final chance. "Emma…I think you know why. One could argue that I have never really had a home anyway. There were no more portals, no way to get back to this world. You must see that I found it worth relinquishing the closest thing I had in order to find a true home…the one I know I could have with you."

She holds his eyes, the emotions passing between them nearly magnetic, and then there is a single, silent tear rolling down her pale, flawless cheek. "You shouldn't have, Killian. I'm not worth it. I'll never be able to give you enough to repay what you've lost helping me. I – I just…"

At those words, his resolve is finally broken. He is suddenly pressing himself to her, hook arm wrapping around her waist and pulling her into his chest, while his good hand comes up to wipe the tear away and caress her face. He cannot hold back any longer; he never could with her. That is how he ended up at this point after all. "Hush, Sweetheart, please don't cry," he whispers, his voice husky as he presses a light kiss to her forehead. "It was my choice. I never wanted you to find out. I didn't want you to feel this way over a decision I made willingly. I would do it again without hesitation."

Emma melts into his embrace and his admission, shoulders shaking roughly in silent sobs. So much has happened in the last few hours, and she is finally coming down from the intensity of it all. That she allows him to see this crash and to hold her through it gives him hope, despite his earlier frustration and vow to retreat. He is as lost to her as ever, but mayhap she is finally seeing that she can put her faith in him. It just might be enough at last to make her stay, to get her to see there is something between them which she owes it to herself to explore. The stalemate between them may be at an end. Regardless, he is not going anywhere, and he knows now – with Emma in his arms – that he never was.